


Strange Hours

by guileheroine



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Roommates, Secret Crush, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26510536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guileheroine/pseuds/guileheroine
Summary: Huan's new roommate comes home in a state.
Relationships: Huan/Tahno (Avatar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Strange Hours

**Author's Note:**

> for @random-stuff-enjoy on tumblr.

Huan had leapt off the little couch the moment Tahno stumbled in, the sight of his face evaporating all the careful thoughts of his next sculpture from his mind. His roommate had a deep bruise over his cheekbone, stark against his pale skin.

Huan swallowed his heart back into his chest. “What happened?!” When Tahno only gave him an evasive shrug, he snatched his wrist,  alarm still rising.

At that, Tahno furrowed his brow. “Come on, it’s just a scratch. What, you’ve never seen a little street rumble?” 

Huan crossed his arms, heart still pattering under them. Well, no, he  _ hadn’t _ . No one in Zaofu ever went around having tussles in the open no matter how much they’d had to drink. This was the first time that Tahno had come home to this dinky flat in such a state, and Huan, his own head roiling, didn’t know whether to be glad he’d moved in. 

Mom had provided him one of the many bedrooms in her rented apartment here, and even offered to pay for one of those swanky Four Elements suites if the first prospect was too stifling, but part of him knew this was his call to experience life amongst the starving artists of the big city. 

Tahno, he would never admit to fitting that bill. But he did - and when he had mentioned offhand that he was looking for a roommate, that day they met at the wedding on Air Temple Island, Huan jumped at the chance. A washed up ex-probender in a jazz band! The drama of it all. But it hadn’t taken long for Huan to end up with doodles of Tahno and his damn coiffure in the margins of his sketchbooks. 

The ambient lighting for the brainstorming session made the shadows on Tahno’s face even droopier. Beneath them the skin was peaky, his eyes tired. Huan’s fist curled with the urge to cup his bruised cheek, soothe the skin.

“Let me see,” he said coolly, exhaling his panic. “My mom taught us a lot about healing techniques.” 

A hint of skepticism entered Tahno’s vacant expression at that, like he wasn’t sure that necessarily translated to any actual capability on  _ Huan’s  _ part. 

Huan wished he’d just humour him. Now that he’d leapt to Tahno’s side, he began to feel conscious of the fact that it would be very easy, right now, to come off as overbearing, if he didn’t already. It wouldn’t be the first time someone accused him of that. Usually he’d scoff at the notion, but with Tahno — in the current quiet of the room, which provided his roommate little else to be distracted by — Huan was very aware of the attention he’d just demanded for himself.

Part of him wished he’d just let Tahno go to bed, and part of him reveled in the exhilarating trepidation.

“I… How did you— ” He began, then mentally shook himself and hardened his voice. “Sit down, come on.” First things first. 

Tahno gave a shrug that shouldn’t have signaled acquiescence, but somehow did - all of his body language always felt vaguely noncommittal. But after a few months of him lurking around in the same apartment, Huan had figured out how to read its subtleties, and now did so automatically. 

Rolling the shoulder he’d shrugged, Tahno came and slumped beside him on the couch. 

“I’m gonna get some ice,” Huan said, then rose, biting his cheek, and left him there.

He should probably have made some talk while he pottered about for the ice and some of that aloe ointment from home that he knew he had somewhere around here. It was one of those things he’d never expected to actually need, throwing it in the back of a drawer he couldn’t recall - but it looked like the occasion to treat some inflammation had finally come. Mom had always kept huge pots of the plant around the grounds - they dominated the walkways, sculpture-like themselves - and she could have hour-long conversations about them with her horticulturist, so it must’ve been good stuff. Who knew, maybe this would… What,  _ impress  _ Tahno?

Huan was embarrassed to have had the thought, and pretty much annihilated it in its tracks. Anyway, here it was - he stretched his fingers for the tube of ointment, ice pack cradled in his other arm, and made his way back to the couch.

Tahno was sitting with his eyes skyward, blank. The fog of impenetrability that was always about him seemed particularly dense tonight. Probably, he was preparing to deflect Huan’s attempts to probe him for answers about what had gone down. It wasn’t exactly that Tahno was hard to pin down — more that whatever he let on about himself seemed to come about  _ despite  _ his best efforts. He was protective of himself. 

Huan could see it, because he knew something of that sort of pride - the sort that was stubborn and not without bitterness. It’s not like  _ either  _ of them were easy to get to know. It was the kind of thing he’d only admit at an hour like this.

Maybe it was the same for Tahno, and the fog would thin with a bit of prodding. Huan wrapped the ice pack in one of the thin towels he used while painting, grabbing it off the shelf beneath the coffee table, and shaking it to unfold it. Usually this place was a mess, but he had tidied up as part of the prep for this evening’s brainstorming session, and the lack of cups strewn about definitely contributed to the night’s cool, new ambience.

“Ice.”

Tahno’s ears pricked and he sat up, not without a wince. “Oh, thanks.” 

If he was startled when Huan held it up to the bruise himself, he didn’t show it  _ much _ . He just swallowed, as Huan gently pressed the ice pack to his cheek with a hand that he mentally willed not to falter. 

For a second, Tahno’s eyes closed in relief. The weariness about him evaporated when he did, like his eyes had just been _waiting_ for the opportunity to fall shut. 

Then Huan coughed. He felt weird sitting there, sort-of touching Tahno’s face in silence. “So… How did you even  _ get  _ like this?” 

Tahno opened one eye at that, and some humour that Huan hadn’t expected glimmered in it. He bit the inside of his cheek again.

“If I tell you, will you promise not to bite my head off?”

Huan forced a laugh. Again, he was surprised when Tahno returned it with a scoff of his own. If he was blushing, it’d be impossible to tell in the dim light, so there was that. Before he could think of something to say, Tahno took pity on him.

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry I scared you.” He paused, and when he spoke again he sounded candid, but not reluctant. “We were just at a bar. A couple of those losers down Razorbill Row - they’re Rabaroos fans and there was that match tonight. You know, some of them still think it’s funny to rag on the Wolfbats, like we didn’t _make_ the game in our day— Normally I wouldn’t give them the time of day, but…” 

Huan couldn’t help but be skeptical about that final part, and the way Tahno trailed off affirmed the feeling. 

But anyway, he had never been to that part of town. And he decided he probably never wanted to go. It lurked vaguely in his imagination as exactly the kind of stylish yet seedy Republic City neighbourhood that gave the city its dusky allure — but in an abstracted sort of way, like he’d want to channel an impression of it in a sculpture or painting from a very safe distance. 

Tahno — one look at him made it clear he was right at home in that kind of place. Hence his enigmatic appeal, Huan had figured.

The silence was stretching; he could tell because Tahno’s eyes lingered on him as if in reminder, and the awkwardness crept in again. 

“Were they, like, trying to taunt you?” He said all too quick, and gestured vaguely, “Whoever… did this?” 

He couldn’t have come out with a more stupid question, obviously. He averted his eyes, put the ice pack down, and busied himself uncapping the ointment, all his focus pointedly in his own lap.

He heard Tahno sigh, oblivious. “It’s just kids, you know… got a few too many drinks in them. Demons.” He bristled again, making it quite clear he wasn’t making them any excuses.

“So did you, by the looks of it,” Huan said. He was relieved to get some higher ground here, and hopefully Tahno wasn’t going to feel too provoked by it.

When he looked up again, Tahno was combing a hand back through his hair, placid and unruffled again. “Just a scuffle,” he said, finally cracking a cool smile. The ice seemed to have done its job. The way he flashed between rare candor and cool indifference — Huan struggled to keep up.

He said nothing, but pressed his lips together, clenched his stomach, and dabbed at Tahno’s cheek with the aloe gel.

“They’re a scrappy bunch down there. You’d fit in, you know.” Tahno said, eyeing him with that biting mischief.

Huan pressed his lips tighter, a smile and a scowl fighting beneath them. The scowl winning, to be frank. It wasn’t too hard, in all honesty, to see why someone might want to sock that face. But it stirred up a different impulse in Huan, at the end of it.

“What, you scared? Have you ever  _ been  _ to a real bar before?”

“I’ve been to a bar,” Huan snapped so quickly that he revealed the lie.

“Aha,” Tahno drawled. The laugh was good-natured though. Then he hissed in bliss at the coolness of the ointment, and Huan wasn’t sure if he hated him for making such a disarming sound without warning. “...So, you want me to take you?” 

“Where?” 

“Down Razorbill Row.”

Huan had to admit the idea held some appeal when he put it like that, though maybe that was just the hour and his sensibilities would return when he woke up in the morning. He’d certainly feel a lot more - well, comfortable was one way to put it - if Tahno  _ took  _ him there. Although he was pretty sure things would go south quick if Tahno fell in danger of fancying another  _ scuffle _ . 

“Come on. You’re always holed up in here.” 

Huan was starting to feel defensive for real now. “I- I’m working.” 

“On your art, huh?” Tahno clicked his tongue and said it slowly, like he was testing the waters. “Well. Maybe it could use a little inspiration from out there… if you don’t mind me saying.”

Huan waited for the blind affront to subside. Then he considered it. Maybe he  _ didn’t  _ mind. He wiped the ointment off his fingers onto his other wrist. When he looked at Tahno the silent humour between them made any insult he felt completely inconsequential.

“I mean… you’re right,” Huan conceded. Tahno wasn’t the only one that tried too hard to keep their cards close. 

And now that he’d let one slip, it felt like Tahno was seeing him as a new person. “Woof. You’re full of surprises tonight. I’m not kidding, I thought that one would go down way worse.”

Huan barked a laugh the same moment as Tahno did, their held gaze taut with a new giddiness. 


End file.
